


Timeslip

by Omega_93



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omega_93/pseuds/Omega_93
Summary: One moment, Taylor was staring down Bonesaw, the next she was in a plain white room and someone was calling her Khepri.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	1. 1.1: Chrysalis

The circular saw came down on my forehead. The last thing I saw as the world faded away was the feral grin on Bonesaw’s face as she happily sung her fucked up little nursery rhyme. 

Phantom images danced in front of my eyes, but they were blurry, barely decipherable. Golden light, floating hexagons, a sea of malformed human bodies. They rushed by too fast to get any read on them.

I could hear voices, but they were muffled. I tried to move, to reach out to my bugs,  _ anything _ , but my senses were muted, my power nowhere to be found. When all else failed, my power—my  _ passenger _ , Bonesaw had called it—was always there to help me out. No matter how bad the situation got, I was confident that I could leverage my swarm to find a solution.

But it was gone. I hadn’t felt so vulnerable in weeks. I was trapped. I could only let myself fall into the haze of the rushing images, phantoms pains and thoughts assailing my body.

There was no way of telling time, but it felt like hours before there was a change. The visions started to fade, giving way to a sharp clarity that felt like venom had been injected into my eyeballs. My vision swam for a moment, and a sharp pain tore through my skull, but it soon started to fade, but from there things only got more confusing. It was like I was submerged in red jell-o, and I could just about see the shapes of people moving around beyond. There was a dull, throbbing pain in the back of my neck.

It was only when I tried to move that I realised I had no feeling in my lower body.

A female voice I vaguely recognised cut through the haze. “Shit! Get away from it, Sveta!”

“What is it?” Another female voice, one that didn’t give that same spark of recognition.

“I don’t know, but I saw something moving around in there.” The first again.

“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” A third female said, again unfamiliar. “Teacher’s quaint tricks have been no match for us so far.”

“People have died today, Swansong,” said the first. “And besides, it could be any kind of tinkertech. We should be cautious. No one from Breakthrough is gonna die today if I can help it.”

The voices went quiet at that, and the dark shapes started to move away until I could barely see them.

Then the red fluid started draining, and little pinpricks of light started entering my awareness. It started slowly, but as more came into being it was like my power gained momentum. It didn’t take long at all before my range had surpassed its average state by a good hundred meters, but there were far less bugs in my swarm than there should’ve been.

“Everyone behind me and Antares!” Swansong called out, voice projecting confidence. 

I tested my powers, moving my bugs around to try and get a better feel for the battlefield. What I found only confused me further, because I was fairly sure if there was such a fucking massive building somewhere on earth bet, it would’ve been world famous. There were thousands of rooms almost identical to the one I was in, and they stretched for at least five blocks in  _ every _ direction without any sign of stopping. 

_ What the fuck is going on here? _

“Wait, it’s a girl?” A male voice, one who hadn’t spoken up before, said.

Feeling returned for my legs just in time for the fluid to drain away. Unfortunately, that didn’t give me enough time to catch my balance before the dull pain at the top of my spine disappeared and my legs gave out from beneath me, sending me crashing to the floor.

Fluid poured out of my mouth like vomit, burning lungs working to eject the material.

I took a moment to catch my breath, centre myself and get a good feeling for my swarm. The population of bugs in this building was so sparse I wouldn’t have been confident even taking on an old lady, let alone what was presumably a group of parahumans—Breakthrough, one of them said? Not a group I’ve heard of, which was all kinds of bad.

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone called out, and I looked up.

There was a group of five in front of me, all of them in decently professional looking costumes, though most were turned away from me, gazes obviously averted. One of them had stepped further forward than the rest, a girl wearing black clothes with golden armour and a gold face mask, but she flinched violently and abruptly flew backwards the moment we made eye contact.

“Holy fuck,” she said with a tremor in her voice. “That’s Taylor Hebert. Khepri.”

I blinked.

_ Who the hell is Khepri? _

_ How do you know my name? _

I felt off balance, in more ways than one. It wasn’t just that my legs felt so weak.I’d been dumped in unfamiliar territory, my bugs few and far between, in a room with only one exit that was blocked by a team of capes I’d never seen before. Even a parahuman that was a known factor was still dangerous; every cape, generally speaking, was going to have tricks up their sleeve that were difficult to impossible to account for. I’d know that better than anyone.

And at least one of them knew my real name. How? 

I started pulling my bugs back towards myself, condensing my swarm as best I could. There was no point in an expanded range in this situation, I needed my bugs  _ here. _

If it were just one parahuman, I might have fancied my chances at putting together a plan on the fly. Against  _ five _ ?

I’d probably faced worse odds, but not by much. 

“Lookout,” the girl with the golden armour spoke again. “Can you direct Rachel and Imp back to us? Tell them— tell them it’s  _ really _ important. Like, get-over-here-right-this-instant-level important.”

My gaze snapped back to the golden-armoured girl—Antares, presumably?—really trying to take her in for the first time.

Antares’ armour, now that I looked at it, was well-made. Golden crown-like spikes on her shoulders, an elaborate golden plate over about three-quarters of her torso and guards covering her thighs and shins. She capped it off with a black hood and a gold face mask that seemed to be molded to her features. My first thought about her had been professional, now I was thinking someone who put serious care into their appearance—someone for whom their costume meant a great deal.

Telling, that I could see some obvious battle damage done to her armor. Something recent if she hadn’t had time to clean up.

“Rachel and Imp?” I repeated. My voice was hoarse, rough. Speaking hurt my throat so bad I coughed on impulse, and doing  _ that _ sent lances of fire into my chest. I curled into a ball, wheezing. 

It was only when I felt my breath on my bare chest that I realised I was naked. 

I froze. Humiliation roiled inside me, hot enough to scald. Was this Bonesaw trying to fuck with me? Some kind of chemical-induced hallucination, reminiscent of those stereotypical nightmares where you’d show up to school with no pants on and all the other kids would point and laugh?

The thought of Bonesaw made my mind screech to a halt, and I flinched violently.

I pushed down the shame, letting that anger at the thought of her, what she’d  _ done _ , replace it. Shame fucking sucked, but anger? I could deal with anger. Had been doing it for a long, long time.

“Your old teammates, right?” Antares called out again, bringing me out of my thoughts. Again, there was that spark of recognition that I’d felt when I was in the jelly. Did I know her?

“They’re on their way here, now,” she continued. Her teammates were whispering among themselves behind her, with only Swansong at her side. She hesitated for a moment, then started shifting herself out of her hooded top and armor, letting long blond hair in a messy braid flow free. She tossed the top to me. “So just… stay put, okay? We’ll get you help.”

I snatched it up, only stopping to give her a nod and a murmured thanks before I wrapped it around my shoulders. Putting it on properly would mean exposing myself and f _ uck that _ .

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” Swansong asked.

Antares gave her a look, and I did the same.

Swansong’s costume could hardly be called one, and at first glance with blurry eyesight I wondered if she was even a cape. Without the mask covering the upper half of her face, I might not have even called it a costume at all. More like a fashionable black and white dress with elaborate straps around the shoulders and neck. It was all form over function, and that told me a lot about her just at a glance.

I grimaced, pressing my lips into a thin line. My swarm was generally closer to me now, but still few in number. I took a moment to do a quick catalogue of my bugs, and the results were even more demoralising than the low quantity; the quality was shit, too.

Flies. Ticks. Woodlice. Insects small enough to get into the smallest nooks and crannies and hide away inside the walls and floors. I cursed under my breath in frustration as I found that the biggest bugs available were cockroaches, and not even one of the big ones you might see on some trashy house-cleaning reality shows. This place was kept  _ clean. _ In a way that had to be a power at play, somehow. That just made me more nervous. Would my bugs get ‘cleaned’ away if I brought them out of the walls? I couldn’t afford to lose any, but I wasn’t sure whether I could afford to be defenseless here.

As I was lost in thought, my bugs felt tremors through the floor, fast approaching our location from outside my range. My bugs at this point were barely spread half a block from me, so I had little time to give more warning than “incoming” before the sound of yapping and snarling reached our ears.

My heart almost leapt out of my chest. I knew that sound, and it was one I never thought I’d be so relieved to hear. 

Rachel and I might not like each other much, but having something, some _ one _ , familiar in this situation was desperately needed.

I wanted to get up, to go greet them. The thought of my naked body exposed to these strangers kept me in place. The thought of Imp and Rachel seeing me like this was somehow even worse, and I started looking around the room, really taking it in for the first time.

It was large, easily the size of the Undersiders’ entire loft, and maybe even slightly bigger. The room was perfectly lit, not a shadow in sight despite no obvious sign of lighting anywhere, it just  _ was. _ The pristine white walls were lined with clear tubes filled with that same red jelly, plugged into wall-to-ceiling machines that separated each tube. Most were clearly empty apart from the red jelly, but within one was an emaciated figure closer to a skeleton than a human.

I swallowed. Had I been in one of those? 

One of them was slightly pushed out from the wall, stepping out of line from the others. I pulled myself along the floor, crawling towards it. It probably looked more than undignified, but at this point I couldn’t bring myself to care. What was a bit more humiliation, when I was already naked save for a hooded top in front of a group of unknown capes? I took some solace in the fact that all but Antares and Swansong had been turned away, at least.

I made it to the tube, then used the machinery as handholds to pull myself to my feet, though I quickly failed and slid back to the floor. My legs were numb when still, but when I tried to move them I got pins and needles ramped up to eleven. 

Cursing under my breath, I peeked around, observing the capes once more, only two—Swansong and Antares—were still inside the room itself, with the other three lingering just outside the door. I hadn’t really paid attention to them when they were turned away, so now I took the opportunity.

There was no running theme to their costumes, but they mostly looked well put together, thought out.

I blinked a few times. The girl was the strangest one out of the lot. She made no attempt at hiding her face, and she wore simple armour covered in colourful paintings and illustrations, over her torso and part of her legs. They looked hand-drawn, and I wondered if she’d done them herself. When I looked closer, I could see tiny gaps in her skin like a threadbare blanket.

Next, just outside the doorway, was a tall guy with probably the most impressive costume of them all. Dark-red armour covered his body up to the neck, with stylised goat’s heads on the chest and shoulders. Even his helmet had the curled horns of a ram. His red-dyed hair ruined some of the serious professional-knight imagery a bit. 

Last was a boy with a white hooded top and a mask with a glowing crack running down from the forehead, over one eye, then off to the side of his jaw. Robotic arms were attached to him at various places, and the only armour he wore was a pair of pale plates around his hips. In a way, his colour scheme was the opposite of ‘Antares’.

Taking their team in as a whole, their costumes told me a small story about them. That they had good costumes suggested that they were well-established, and had been at this for a while. That there wasn’t a running theme could imply that they weren’t necessarily a team at all, just a group thrown together for a particular job, but I couldn’t rely on that. The Undersiders were another example of a group who didn’t have a theme, after all. 

Next, and probably most important, was the  _ aesthetic _ of their costumes. I’d only learned after my first night out that your choice of costume left an impression on people you interacted with—something I should’ve taken into account beforehand, admittedly. The point was: a villain or a hero would put different kinds of thoughts into their appearance. Different priorities and considerations.

Looking at the colour choices, the aesthetics and styles, these guys could’ve gone either way. Some looked heroic, maybe even most, but some didn’t. It was disconcerting, left me unsure what course of action to take.

The sounds of Rachel’s dogs got loud enough that it was thunderous, hurting my ears, but they soon came to a halt. I heard a blessedly familiar voice call out.

“Alright, Breakthrough. We’re here. Spit it out.”

_ Aisha. _

“Imp!” I called out. My voice was still rough from disuse, but I hoped it was at least recognisable. “In here.”

Silence was the reply. Then I heard a growl, loud footsteps, and Rachel appeared in the doorway. Relief flooded me, but only for a moment as words died in my throat.

I couldn’t put my finger on any one thing, but she was different. It was Rachel, her demeanour alone betrayed that much. But there were little details. Inconsistencies. In the length of her hair, her height, the width of her shoulders. 

Even her voice, when her eyes found mine. It was softer, somehow, something I didn’t think I’d ever associate with Rachel.

“Taylor?” 

Especially when the word spoken so softly, almost  _ tenderly _ , was my name.

I couldn’t parse the emotion in her voice, I’d never heard anything like that from her.

“Rachel,” I replied. I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts were jumbled, and I couldn’t get a hold on a single strand long enough to formulate a plan of action. I could feel my bugs stirring, agitated. I thought of Bonesaw, of my teammates lying motionless, of  _ Brian _ . 

And here Rachel was in front of me. The reality of the situation was starting to dawn on me. Something was wrong, out of place. That much was obvious.

Imp pushed past her into the room. Her gaze snapped to me just as Rachel’s had, and she tore her mask off, eyes wide and locked on mine. Looking at her, noting the differences just as I had with Rachel, it clicked.

“You got taller,” I said.  _ And somehow even prettier _ , but I wasn’t ever going to tell her that in a million years. She and Regent would never let me hear the end of it.

There was a long moment of silence.

“Motherfucking cunting shitballs,” Imp murmured with a choked tremble in her voice, her eyes misty. “Holy fucking fuck, we are going to kill that fucker.”

I didn’t know  _ precisely  _ who she was talking about, but I found myself agreeing.


	2. 1.2

“This is just—what the  _ fuck _ ,” Imp said, putting it more eloquently than I ever could. “Is the Bogeybitch just trying to piss me off or something? When she said we’d reunite with an old teammate, I thought—fuck!”

Rachel stepped towards me, ignoring Imp’s outburst. She shrugged her leather jacket off and draped it over my shoulders, tying Antares’ hoody over my hips. “You okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I managed to reply. My thoughts were whirling. “Where’s Bonesaw? What did she do to me?”

“Bonesaw?”

“She had us all pinned down, paralysed, with Brian’s fucking entrails spread across a walk-in fridge. Then, suddenly I wake up and you guys are all older. What, did she freeze me in time? Stuck me in a fucking test tube for safe keeping?”

Rachel was silent for a long moment, with a contemplative expression that I never imagined seeing on her. “Don’t think so.”

“Then what? I don’t know what the fuck is happening, Rachel.”

Rachel grimaced. “Bit of a fucky thing going down at the moment.”

“A fucky thing?”

“A  _ motherfucking _ fucky thing.”

Right. That cleared everything up.

“Imp,” I said, snapping her out of her surprisingly creative swearing fit. “A little help here?”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry.” Imp rushed over to me.. “Hey, you have your normal powers back, right? Just bugs?”

I looked at her. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeesh. That’s a bit difficult to get into, so let’s just table it for now. Gotta get you outta here first, yeah?”

How was I supposed to just ‘table’ a comment like that?

“Where  _ is _ here, Imp?”

I was  _ really _ sick of not knowing what was happening, here. My power was crackling in the back of my head, sending phantom images that buzzed at the edge of my awareness. It was like I’d just got my power all over again, like it was relearning to calibrate itself to me.

_ Not _ something I needed right now. Imp’s mention of my power had me focusing on my swarm, condensed to within about a block of me, now. It was still disconcerting to know that a  _ block _ in every direction was within a single building.

“Uh, Teacher’s base? You know who Teacher is, right?”

“Not the slightest clue.”

“Shit. That makes this harder.” Imp paused, taking a breath. “Well, I’ll give you the short version— uh, wait. What’s the last thing you remember?”

My temper flared. I wanted to snap at her, to shout and vent this off, but I knew I couldn’t. For the time being, I was dependent on her and Bitch, and I couldn’t alienate them.

“Bonesaw cutting into my  _ fucking _ head,” I said. “Everyone else was paralysed, powers turned off somehow. Brian was—” 

I swallowed, looked away. Presumably, the Undersiders as a whole had survived somehow, considering two of them were in front of me. 

But it was telling that Brian wasn’t here, no apparent involvement in whatever this was. I hadn’t wanted to believe there was no way to save him. Refused to accept it, even, despite what Tattletale said.

Imp groaned. “That leaves me with so much shit to explain. Can I just give you the cliff notes?”

“Give me something,” I said.  _ “Anything _ . Please.”

Imp and Rachel exchanged a look, both of them equally grim.

Eventually, Rachel was the one to speak. “Pretty sure you’re a clone.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!”

Imp winced. “Yeah. Uh. You know that whole ‘end of the world’ thing Dinah predicted? That came true. Part of it, right at the start, was a bunch of clones of old Slaughterhouse Nine capes. Looking at the creepy shit Teacher’s got going on in here? He took some inspiration from Bonesaw. Fucking asshole.”

I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest. It hadn’t been the most immediate concern right at that moment, but Dinah’s prediction had been hanging over my head like a sword I knew was eventually going to come down. 

“We failed,” I said, feeling numb. “Jack escaped.”

“Yeah.” Imp sighed. “Yeah, he did. Came back two years later to start a big old ruckus, then at the end of it all, he talked to Scion.”

“And Scion listened?”

Imp nodded, serious as I’d ever seen her. Even Rachel looked subdued, no trace of anger or aggression on her face.

“We beat him,” Rachel said. “Or you did.”

“ _ I _ did?” I scoffed. “What? Did I shove bugs down his fucking throat?”

“Reeeally don’t think we should have that discussion right now,” Imp said.

“She’ll find out,” Rachel said.

“And we should wait for a little bit.” Imp grimaced, running a hand through her long, dark hair. “Not right now. Trust me, Taylor? I really don’t think we should drop that bomb on you. We should at least wait to have Tats around.”

“You realise you’re just making me want to know more, right?”

“I know! Just—fuck. Look, can you use your bugs to scout the area a little bit?”

I took a long, slow breath. It felt like I was breathing through a straw, never quite getting enough air into my lungs, and even when I did it felt like my chest was being crushed like a vice. My body felt so weak.

“I don’t have many. This place is too clean,” I said. “I’ve got woodlice and other things that can hide in the walls, but not a lot.”

Imp nodded. “That’s fine. We’re mainly looking for clothes for you, alright? There should be, like, storage rooms or some shit. Full of stacks of boxes with white clothes in them.”

“People might think she’s one of Teacher’s,” Rachel said.

“Better than walking around naked, right?” Imp replied.

I nodded, already directing my swarm. I had a few bugs move out of the walls and floors, scouting ahead, making sure they wouldn’t be immediately killed by whatever presence kept this place so unnaturally clean. When the first few emerged without issue, I started to commit more of my forces.

These bugs didn’t have any senses worth shit, but proprioception was all I needed. My insects flowed over the rooms within the smaller range I’d drawn my swarm into, and I slowly started to build a proper map of my surroundings. It didn’t take long until I found what I was looking for.

“Got something,” I said. “Three floors above us, about a hundred meters to my Eight-O’Clock. Room filled with boxes with plastic packets inside them. Fairly sure that’s clothes.”

“Good,” Imp said. She spun on her heel, striding towards Breakthrough. “Yo, Antares! Think you could send one of your teammates on a little errand?”

“Contessa told my team to stick together and I think this might be why,” Antares replied. She was floating an inch or two off the ground, and there was something in the tension in her shoulders that put me on edge. Like she was ready to attack.

I started drawing my bugs in closer again. I would’ve killed for something more deadly in my swarm. Spiders, wasps, centipedes—something that could bite or sting and put an opponent off. There was nothing in Breakthrough’s costumes to give any indication of what their powers were, and I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure on where their allegiances lay.

I didn’t want to fight. Not just because of the shitty bugs, but because she had been the one to be decent to me first.

The way Antares had reacted to me once she saw my face, combined with Imp’s cagey response to my questions about my part in Scion’s defeat—there wasn’t nearly enough information to even begin painting a picture, but the vague image that was forming in my mind wasn’t a pretty one.

I grimaced. This whole situation was fucking with me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. The room was objectively massive, but it felt like the walls were too close, the red fluids in the machines bringing images to mind that I really didn’t want to fucking think about right now.

“We can’t just have her running around naked, Vicky,” Imp was saying.

_ Vicky? _

“And our team cannot split up,” Swansong replied, jutting out her chin. “Your incessant warbling will get you nowhere. If you wish to supply your teammate, shouldn’t you take care of it yourselves?”

“What happened to the spirit of cooperation?” Imp said. “Come on, it’s not like you guys were doing anything here.”

I could see Antares shift. “Kenzie says Tattletale wants us to do it, but...”

“Tattletale is  _ her _ teammate, no? Of course she wants us to leave.”

“That’s not the point I’ve been driving at all this time, Swansong. I’m  _ saying _ that leaving Khep— _ Skitter _ undefended in this situation is dangerous. Teacher did this for a reason, and you get zero points for guessing why.”

Swansong didn’t reply, turning to face me. Little wisps of shadow drifted from her eyes, giving an ethereal quality to her movements. 

Imp started to speak. “Look, we can’t—”

“Imp,” I called out. “Just go. I’ll direct you.”

I was so fucking done with sitting here naked save for Rachel’s jacket over my shoulders and Antares’ hoody covering my legs. Quite apart from being a humiliating situation that seemed to have been torn from one of my worst nightmares and transplanted into reality, this place was bitingly cold. Every breathe sent violent shivers through my body. I started pulling in some bugs to cover me up, but I didn’t really have enough to do even that much effectively.

This place made me feel naked in more than just the literal sense.

“Fine.” Imp sighed. “If I’m going to all this trouble, you better fucking protect her, Breakthrough.”

“Of course we will,” Antares said.

With one last look in my direction, Imp left. I directed bugs to land on her so I could keep track of her movements, then started drawing out arrows on the walls to show her the way. 

As soon as Imp was out of earshot, I spoke.

“Rachel.”

She looked at me, still with that same uncharacteristic tenderness in her eyes.

“Tell me everything,” I said.


	3. 1.3

**Timeslip 1.3**

Rachel shifted, shooting a glare at the capes behind her while Antares floated close enough that I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t overhear. Swansong was only a yard or so behind. The others were still standing guard outside the door, but it felt like their attention was far more inside the room than out.

Rachel gave a sharp whistle, and several regular-sized dogs trotted into the room, presenting themselves for their master. One of them started growing, and she ordered it to lie down beside us. It wasn’t long before it was big enough that I couldn’t see our nominal allies over its bulk.

“The shit went down about two years after the thing with Bonesaw,” Rachel said, with a level of calm that I just couldn’t get used to. “Scion was fucking everything up, killing everyone. We were getting our asses kicked, but everyone was being stupid and fighting with each other.”

“Sounds about right.”

That was the most believable part of all this shit so far.

“A bunch of people died. Good people. Some of ours.”

My heart jumped. I tried to swallow, but it felt like my throat was coated in ice. “Who?” I managed to croak out.

“Grue,” she said. She hesitated for a beat.

I felt my bugs stirring. Moving in a frenzy.

There was something different in her voice when she spoke again.

“You.”

It was too much to process.

When we’d found Brian in that fridge, I’d refused to give up. There was no way I was going to let him die, no matter what it took.

Apparently, we’d figured a way out. Overcame the odds.

And he went and died anyway.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing ever was, in my life, but this felt worse. _Cruel._

I wanted to scream, to rage against everything, but I didn’t have the energy. My body was feeble, my mind still half-numb. I closed my eyes, taking a moment to focus on my bugs, getting a feel for their capabilities. Flexing a thousand legs, running through a million bodily processes, trying to force myself to see through the countless eyes that simply weren’t supposed to match with human vision.

“So, when Imp was talking about reuniting with a teammate?” I said, trailing off at the end.

“It’s complicated,” Rachel said.

“Complicated how?”

Rachel’s expression turned grim, and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could get more than a syllable out, I felt a shift in my bugs. At the same time, the giant dog gave a low growl. 

In a regular dog, it might have been cause for caution. From an animal as big as a truck, it was like an explosion right by my ear, shaking my whole body and rattling my skull.

I groaned in pain, and only Rachel’s arm around me kept me from curling into a ball.

Apparently unperturbed by the monstrous canine, Antares floated closer with her back pressed to the ceiling, looking down on us. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Rachel snarled — a tone I was much more used to from her.

“I’m sorry, Bitch, but I agree with Imp. I don’t think what you’re doing is a good idea.”

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

“It _really_ is my business. It’s everyone here’s business if— we don’t want anything to happen to her, do we?”

Imp had started jogging at this point, but she was still a good minute or so away from her destination. I considered whether I’d have to call her back to support us in a fight, but decided against it. Instead, I started writing out a message on one of the corridors we’d eventually get to, telling her to be quick about it. My bugs felt the vibrations as she spoke, but couldn’t make out the words.

She started sprinting. Even at that speed, she’d never get back in time to be of any use if things got violent.

I really didn’t want it to come down to a fight, but we’d have to figure something out with just Rachel and I if it did.

“You don’t know her,” Rachel said. “She’ll do something stupid if she doesn’t have the facts.”

“I’m right here, you know?” I muttered.

“What do you mean?” Antares asked.

Rachel’s scowl was as dark as I’d ever seen it. “The last thing we want to do is hide shit from her. If she doesn’t think she can trust us she’ll just do shit on her own. Take things into her own hands. It’s what she always did.”

“I don’t—”

Antares stopped, stared off into space. It took her a few seconds to come to a decision, then she pushed off from the ceiling, gently lowering herself.

“Can I come down there? I’ll help you explain.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Uh. Tattletale said that’s a bad idea. Explain some? Sure, absolutely. But, again, Imp kind of had it right. Cliff notes.”

I scowled. The senses from my bugs were crackling at the edge of my awareness, a constant buzz like static on a damaged VHS tape. 

I could feel through my bugs as Swansong moved, stepping around the bulk of Rachel’s dog. She leaned against the wall once she had us in her sight, but said nothing. Her eyes fixed on me.

Rachel spoke, ignoring Antares. “Shit was fucked., but you unfucked it.”

“Unfucked it?” I repeated, more out of reflex than anything.

“Yeah, but unfucking things fucked you up,” Rachel said. “I don’t know how it happened, but Panacea did something to your power so you could control people. You brought everyone to the battlefield and fought Scion. You beat him, but doing it fucked you up so bad that you had to be put down.”

“Rachel, _please,_ ” Antares said, but I was barely paying attention, transfixed on Rachel.

The idea of my death wasn’t so shocking. Every day as a villain in Brockton Bay was a flirtation with the reaper. 

I’d already known I was going to get Dinah out of Coil’s clutches or die trying. Making peace with my end hadn’t been all that hard.

Most of my focus was on wrapping my head around the idea of controlling _people_. I’d lamented the inherent weakness of my powers plenty of times, but I’d never once even considered something like that. It felt wrong; a violation on a level with someone like Heartbreaker.

Nausea hit me like a wave. I felt dizzy, but Rachel was close enough to me that I didn’t keel over. 

Supporting me yet again. It was almost too surreal to believe.

 _Fuck this._ I couldn’t think about it right now. I was apparently in a dangerous situation where a group of five capes was reluctant to split up, tired, cold, and naked. I needed to be focused on the present. Imp was right. I could sort through the finer details later.

For now, I had to keep looking forward.

“Alright,” I said, cutting off Antares. She and Rachel had been talking, but I had no idea what had been said. “What are we going to do now?” I asked.

“That’s… a difficult question. We have orders from a powerful precog. Both my team and the Undersiders.” Antares hesitated, hands grasping at air by her sides. “The idea is that if we follow her instructions, Teacher gets away and remains a problem, but none of Breakthrough or the Undersiders die. The city is mostly okay, but the heroes struggle to keep the villains under control.”

Mentions of a precog made me think of Dinah, but that was just something else I had to put out of my mind right now.

My heart was hammering in my chest, hard enough it physically hurt. I still couldn’t quite catch my breath.

Antares looked to Rachel as she spoke. “The thing is, I don’t know if we’ve messed that up by bringing Rachel and Imp here. I didn’t catch what she said to you guys. Was it something she accounted for, or have we deviated from her instructions?” 

“She told us to go fuck up those idiots with the time powers,” Rachel said. “Then back up Breakthrough, and we’d reunite with a teammate. Didn’t mention which teammate.”

“Right. Okay.” Antares hesitated a beat, then drifted low enough that the tips of her toes were grazing the floor. Seeing her up close with my own eyes, she looked like shit. Much worse than I’d thought just from the bit of damage I’d seen on her costume. 

Now that I was looking for it, it was the same for Swansong. The info I could pick up from their teammates suggested the same story, though none of them were as bad as Antares.

These guys looked like they’d been through war, and not just recently. Old wounds. Battle scars.

Taken along with the quality of their costumes, it was clear they were experienced heroes. Much more than I’d initially thought. I had to revise my estimations of them, a little bit. My expectations, too.

“The Speedrunners. You beat them?” Antares asked, still focused on Rachel.

“Some of our people got hurt,” Rachel said. “But Imp got them.”

“Let’s assume we’re still on Contessa’s path, then.” She shot a look over her shoulder, towards the doorway, before focusing on me. “Okay, so I overheard you don’t know who Teacher is, so I’ll give you a quick rundown: he’s a Master/Trump with the ability to give out minor thinker and tinker powers to anyone he chooses, and he can customise these abilities. His limitation was always that the more he used his power on someone, the less free will they got.”

I nodded. This was more familiar ground, gathering information so I could come up with a plan. Something to focus on that didn’t fill me with crushing dread.

Not all the terms she was using were familiar to me, but I could make guesses simply enough. Fill in some of the blanks with the database we stole from the PRT. Once again, I cursed how little time I’d had to look through it all.

“He used that ability to amass a small army of minor capes—we’re calling them Students for now—but he can also use his power on regular parahumans, giving an aiming ability to a blaster, and that kind of thing. With that army, he’s been fucking with everyone. Heroes, villains, civilians, government, infrastructure — you name it, he’s trying to exert his influence on it. We don’t know why he’s doing it, but we’re pretty sure we wouldn’t like his reasoning if we did.

“In the last few days, he started off something big. Disinformation campaigns, trying to split up groups, even kidnappings. The Wardens decided he couldn’t be allowed to run around unchecked anymore, so they sent a major strike team after him. Into here. Cauldron’s old base, now Teacher’s.”

“Cauldron?” I’d mostly been following up to that point.

“Ah, sorry. A powerful villain group that got taken down during Scion’s rampage. Not important right now. As I was saying, a strike team went in to deal with him. That was mainly the Wardens. Those of us still outside lost contact with that group in a matter of hours, and we had to go in as reinforcements, drawing from every hero group we had still available.”

“Sounds like a clusterfuck,” I said.

“It is,” Rachel growled. She jerked her chin in Antares’ direction. “These guys always try to act like they know what they’re doing, but they don’t know shit.”

I had to hold back a sigh. Confirmation that Antares’ group were heroes, if nothing else. _Thanks, Rachel._

“We fought our way in,” Antares continued as if Rachel and I hadn’t spoken. “But it wasn’t easy. Eventually, we discovered that Teacher had been holding a powerful precog in a coma, trying to break her and turn her into his thrall. Possibly the most powerful parahuman out there save for the Endbringers, with the power to know what she needs to do to ‘win’ and carry out those steps perfectly.”

I stared at her, a bit shaken. The possibilities of what one could do with that kind of ability were staggering. How had someone like that even gotten captured?

“We rescued her, but one of the capes guarding this place caught us in the act. They promptly collapsed half a mile’s worth of giant building on top of us. We survived with the precog’s help, and she made us choose what path she should take among a list of different outcomes.”

“Right. What you were talking about that earlier. You chose to let Teacher escape,” I said. My voice was far calmer than I felt.

Antares shook her head slowly. “We didn’t end up voting. One of my teammates has a bad history with the precog, and she convinced her to choose for herself. By the way things are going? Contessa picked Option E.” She hesitated, swallowing audibly. “Damage to the city, a—a lot of people die, Teacher escapes, Heroes have trouble for a while. But Undersiders and Breakthrough don’t lose any members.”

My mind stuttered. One part stood out.

“A lot of people die?”

“Yeah. That’s the one I’m thinking she chose.” Her voice had a tremor. She shot a look at Rachel. “She didn’t mention reuniting with a teammate in any of the others.”

“Same motherfucker who killed you in the first place,” Rachel said.

My stomach flipped. “From what you’ve been saying, maybe she was right to.”

And wasn’t that a fucked up thing to think about?

I felt like my head was going to explode. There was too much to process.

I took a moment to tend to my bugs, letting them fan out a little further now that I was relatively sure Breakthrough weren’t going to attack me. Flies and gnats drifted out from the walls, flying in patterns that would let me map things out better. I would’ve given anything for some more offensive species, now that I knew what I’d woken to.

Something told me getting out of here was going to be a running battle.

Imp was already on her way back, lugging a big box in her arms. I blinked as I realised my bugs were still moving in formation to direct her back to us; my focus elsewhere, I hadn’t been directing them to.

_That’s freaky._

“So that’s where we’re at,” Antares spoke after a long moment of silence, her voice _too_ calm. Forced. “We’re right in the middle of a precog’s scheme, and we can’t back out. I-I think we’re going to have to take you with us.”

“Of course we are,” Rachel snapped.

Antares held up her hands, placating. “I meant to take her with us as we continue. I was thinking maybe your team would prioritise getting her out.”

Rachel scowled.

Antares turned her attention back to me. “But you can see how that might be problematic, right? We—Breakthrough and I—saw you come out of that tank with our own eyes. We _know_ who and what you are, and who and what you’re not. Everyone else?” Antares paused, finally lowering herself to the floor. “What Rachel said about the end of Gold Morning, what you—the other you—did? A lot of capes struggled to come to terms with that. I’d guess there’s less than ten people outside of the Undersiders who won’t shoot on sight if they recognise you, Skitter.”

If I’d had a hundred years, it wouldn’t have been enough to describe what I felt at that moment.

The whole world out to get me for something I didn’t do. I wanted to rail against it, to scream at the injustice, deny that the universe was once again bending over backwards to fuck me over.

I couldn’t.

“You’re manipulating her,” Rachel growled. I could feel the tension ratcheting up in her arms. “You think I’m stupid, so you can do whatever you want and I won’t notice.” She spat to the side. “I’ve been dealing with fuckers smarter than you for years. Cut the shit.”

Antares was frozen in place. “It’s not like that. I’m telling the truth.”

“Yeah? What’re you leaving out?”

There was a beat of silence, the hero tilting her head to the side, looking off into space. Same thing she’d done before. Communicating with someone?

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Here’s how it is: I don’t think Teacher made a clone of _Khepri_ as some kind of personal favour. The fact Contessa directed us here? My guess would be that she was having us cut off one of his trump cards.”

“If she’s one of my brethren, it’s possible she’ll have programming,” Swansong said. “Command phrases. Brainwashing. Tell me, Skitter, how are your memories?”

I tried to think, but my head was foggy. The fight with Bonesaw came easily, and it wasn’t much more effort to remember the battle with the Nine that got Grue captured. Before that, it was my one-on-one with Mannequin. Attacking the PRT building. Shadow Stalker chasing me. Leviathan.

As I cycled through the memories, straining my mind, my heart rate started to pick up again. Before, I’d felt like I was breathing through a straw.

Now, I could hardly breathe at all.

“What the fuck,” I managed to wheeze out.

I tried to recall my Dad’s face.

Nothing.

Mom’s voice.

Silence.

The fight against Lung, over a month ago now.

His snarling, silver draconic face, mere inches away from mine. Clear as day. 

Molten lava rolling over my skin. As if I was still feeling it. 

The roar of the inferno. A perfect recording, played back.

Fire and brimstone filling my nostrils, acrid and thick. I could swear something here, in the present, was on fire.

“Fuck,” I said.

“Battles,” Swansong said. She pushed away from the wall, striding towards us. “Fights, arguments, desperation. Conflict. That’s what our agents focus on: the worst of us. When you lose yourself, you can be sure those are the parts they’ll keep safe. I don’t remember what my mother looked like, but the image of her corpse is there in stark clarity. Preserved almost lovingly, I’d say.”

“Swansong,” Antares spoke with a note of warning in her voice.

Swansong ignored her. “Do you remember it, Skitter? The darkness. Carmine crystals, a jet black sky, lightning travelling through it all.”

Picturing it in my mind’s eye, I nodded. It came easily.

“Hold on to that image. Find the connection. Your selves, in all their myriad forms. It’s simple.”

“Are you really sure we should be fucking around with this, right now?” Antares’ voice held a note of panic as she stepped between Swansong and I.

Whatever she was worried about, it was too late.

There were things I’d witnessed earlier, in the in-between. They were vague, like looking at a painting through foggy glass, but I could see them.

“I think I remember bits of it.” I tried to keep my voice calm, and I succeeded a bit too well; I sounded emotionless, robotic even to my own ears. The sensation was eerie enough to get my heart thundering once more. I would’ve switched to talking with my bugs if my swarm hadn’t been composed of gnats, cockroaches, woodlice, and other similarly useless insects.

“Golden light,” I continued. “Tiny hexagons, winking in and out of existence.”

“Memory bleed,” Swansong said. “If the Wardens let you run free after all this, find me. I’ll talk you through it properly.”

“You’re an expert?” I asked. She’d seemed to know it all so well.

“I’m a clone myself,” she said. Her gaze swivelled in a slow arc, falling over the floor-to-ceiling tanks. “This technology doesn’t look familiar, but if the last thing you remember was Bonesaw? It’s entirely possible you and I are sisters, in an odd way.”

“Not sure I’d think of it like that.”

Swansong shrugged one shoulder. “I do.”

I didn’t know what to make of that, so I stayed silent. The way she said it so casually threw me off. I was trying to think about absolutely anything else so I wouldn’t go through an existential fucking crisis, here.

Conversation tapered off. Everyone was standing around, tense, unable to do anything but wait. The machines around me emitted a low hum. The fluid from my tank smelled like grease and vomit. The cold stole under Rachel’s jacket, biting at my bare skin relentlessly.

Rachel nudged my shoulder with hers. I stared at her for a moment, confused.

The way that she looked back at me with such care made me want to shiver. 

Imp was almost back, and I waited for her to make it to the doorway before I spoke.

“I’m not sitting back and doing nothing. There’s no way that’s happening.”

Antares tensed. “Look—I get that, Skitter. I really do. But if anyone recognises you or your power, we’re going to have people freaking out.”

“They’re going to see her at some time,” Rachel said.

I nodded. “I don’t have to swarm people, but I can keep track of things. Organise the battlefield. All I need is a fly or two in places where they won’t get crushed.”

“Figured this would be a thing,” Imp said as she shimmied around the dog to approach Rachel and I. One look at us, and her shoulders slumped with a sigh. She turned to give the two members of Breakthrough a shooing motion. “Now, piss off, you two. No peeking.”

Antares and Swansong dutifully turned away, though the latter needed some goading from the former. Small mercies.

“Here’s some clothes. Should fit you.” Imp tossed a few plastic packages at my feet. Rachel snatched one up and tore it open for me, chalk-white clothes spilling to the floor. 

“Now then, I saw your bugs were getting into a bit of a frenzy, so let’s see how much you managed to get out of Bitch while I was away.” She stepped up close to me, staring into my eyes. Barely a second passed before she sighed. “Yeah. Thought so. Goddamnit, Rachel.”

Rachel just shrugged, unashamed.

Imp palmed her forehead. “Alright. It’s okay. This is salvageable.” She pointed at me, almost accusingly. “I’ve wrangled the Heartbroken for years. I can sure as hell keep _you_ in line.”

I could only smile.

~~~


	4. 1.4

Putting on clothes was like donning a suit of armour. I’d been laid bare for all to see in more ways than the literal, and it felt like my skin had been flayed away rather than having been naked. The humiliation prickled and stung all over, and finally covering up was only partially a balm. 

A white tunic, white slacks, white underwear, and white sneakers. If I’d listed my top ten choices of attire right at this moment none of them would’ve made it, but just getting some clothes on—any clothes—made me feel more whole again. Not having to hunch over to cover myself up was a blessing, but the situation was still far from perfect. The fabric was smooth to the touch, but my skin was so raw it might as well have been metal wool. The incessant itching made me want to scream and I’d been wearing them for less than a minute. 

I’d just have to deal. No choice.

Imp clapped her hands together once I was ready. “Alrighty then. We’ve got you up to speed and we’ve got you some clothes.” She tilted her head. “Now what?”

“We fuck Teacher up,” Rachel said, beside me. Pins-and-needles were still present in my legs, but I’d at least gained enough strength to stand at this point, even if I had to lean on Rachel for balance.

“That goes without saying.” Imp placed one hand on her hip. “Well, Bogeybitch gave four main objectives: rescue Chevalier, rescue Valkyrie, rescue Legend—bit of a running theme, here—and knock Miss Militia out.”

“Why the fuck would she want us to knock out Miss Militia?” I asked.

“Not us, the Heartbroken. And, uh, I don’t remember why? Shit was kinda hectic down there, and she was throwing a shit-load of orders around to different people.”

“The Heartbroken? You’ve mentioned them a few times.”

“Regent’s siblings. A bunch of hellions, but they can be good kids sometimes.”

That was horrifying on so many levels. “You’ve teamed up with a bunch of Heartbreaker’s children?”

“Well, yeah. You already worked with one of Heartbreaker’s kids. What’s, like, ten more?”

I stared at her. There was no shame in her posture, nor a hint of humour. “Leaving that aside for now. Miss Militia?”

“She’d push in too far,” Rachel said.

Imp snapped her fingers. “That was it! Miss Militia would push her team to go further than Contessa wants them to, or some shit like that. Didn’t explain why that would be a problem.” She lowered her voice to a caustic whisper. “She was pretty fucking vague about all her instructions, come to think of it.”

“Let’s get the others in on this,” I said. I shifted, trying to minimise the points of contact between the clothes and my skin.

Imp shrugged. “Sure.” She turned to speak over her shoulder. “Yo, Breakthrough! Huddle up! Time to put together a game plan.”

“Can we talk while we move?” Antares said. She’d shrugged her hoodie back on, having hefted her golden armour with ease. “Waiting for Skitter to get some clothes on makes sense, but we’re on a time limit, here.”

“She can barely walk,” Imp said.

The words stung. All the worse because I couldn’t refute them. My strength was coming back at a remarkable speed, but still far too slowly given the situation. If Rachel weren’t supporting me, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to stay standing, and I needed to be at my best right now.

“She doesn’t need to walk if she can ride one of your ghastly beasts,” Swansong said.

Antares moved her hand as if she was about to slap it to her forehead, but aborted the motion halfway with a sigh.

I felt Rachel tense, and knew I needed to speak up. “Calm down,” I said. “I’ll ride one of the dogs. Take a sec to fill me in on our side? Names? Powers?”

Imp spoke with a severe tone. “My name’s Imp, and I have a disappearing problem.”

“Shut up, Imp,” I said, ignoring her cackles. I looked at Breakthrough instead.

“Big guy in armour is Capricorn.” Antares’ reply came within a heartbeat of me finishing talking, her words rushed. “He has the power to create motes of red light that turn into walls, structures. If the accents on his armour turn blue, it’s a different guy and he’ll have blue motes that create powerful spouts of water. They both have some level of enhanced strength and stamina. Their situation is a long story and not mine to tell.” 

She had to pause to take a long breath, then continued, even more rushed, voice growing more thin with every word. “The girl is Tress, and she can unfurl her body into countless tendrils. She’s fast, strong, and pretty durable. The one with the mechanical arms is Precipice. He has a bunch of powers: a guilt aura, an arm-based tinker power, the ability to stop his momentum in mid air, and light-blades that create cracks in both organic and non-organic matter which will split apart when a certain amount of force is applied.”

“I’m an Alexandria package with an aura that’ll make you scared of me or in awe of me. For complicated reasons, get the fuck away if I tell you to stay away. Swansong—”

Swansong cut her off. “I create blasts from my hand that annihilate matter. I have it under control, but I would also suggest you tread lightly in my vicinity if you value your life.”

Antares was breathing heavily, gaze fixed on me. “And Lookout is out tinker. She’s our mission control, watching everything through eye-cameras. Got all that?”

"Yeah," I said, a bit stunned.

“Then let’s go. We’ll flank Valkyrie’s group like originally planned. Then we’ll think about Legend and Chevalier.”

“What about the Heartbroken?” I asked. “Don’t you think we should meet up with them?”

Imp shook her head. “If they’ve done their job with Miss Militia, they would have surrendered to the Wardens right after.”

“Take over for me,” Rachel said abruptly. 

“Uh, okay?” Imp hastily took Rachel’s place at my side.

Rachel snapped her fingers then pointed, and her dog hefted its immense bulk towards the door. The door frame warped as it had to squeeze itself through. Rachel followed behind it.

“Now, can we walk and talk? Time is really of the essence, here,” Antares said.

I nodded, but it was Imp who spoke, murmuring in my ear. “Sure you’re good to keep yourself upright on one of Rachel’s dogs?”

I thought about it. I was far from full strength, but it was coming back to me, bit by bit. Where I’d barely been able to move my legs when I first woke up, standing was possible now, if through effort and a shoulder to lean on. It wasn’t that my muscles had atrophied or anything, they just hadn’t been used before. If the fucker who cloned me wanted anything out of me, they weren’t just going to leave me a weak, useless husk.

Extrapolating from there, I was optimistic I’d be able to handle riding a dog.

So I gave a thumbs up, even if I wasn’t a hundred percent confident. It would be a struggle, but I’d pull through. Had to.

“Okay,” Imp said. She started moving us towards the doorway, following Breakthrough’s lead. Rachel was already outside, growing her dogs up to size. “That’s good. If you need any help, give me a shout, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Imp stared at me for a moment. She snorted and shook her head. “You barely complained when your arm got chopped off. Don’t know why I asked.”

My mind stuttered, my bugs drawing to a halt for a fraction of a second before my thoughts resumed. “Did I actually get my arm chopped off?”

“Eh. Sort of. Shit got pretty gnarly at the end.”

“Maybe understating it a bit,” I said as we moved into the pale white corridor. 

Being out of that room lifted a weight off my shoulders. Something about the cloning vats gave me a sinking feeling, an uncomfortable twist in my stomach. It abated the moment we stepped out into the corridor, the low hum of the machinery drowned out by distant rumbling, the red tanks hidden from view behind white walls.

I started moving my bugs around, pushing them out further, mapping out the local area. It was mind-blowing how large this building was, even more so for how uniformly built it was. The section we were in was part of an even greater whole, some kind of enormous living area. Rooms full of cots, others with kitchen facilities, laundry rooms, large communal bathrooms, and more. There was a room so big it could have fit the loft inside it ten times over, containing huge tanks full of water.

It spoke to the sheer scale of the operation Teacher was running, and I had to admit it was somewhat intimidating. 

I’d gone up against scary people before, but they were of a different type. Gangsters, thugs, and murderers. Capes who mostly fought you head on. The only villain I’d met who operated like this was Coil, and the underground base that had seemed so impressive at the time paled in comparison to the enormity of what I was mapping out with my bugs.

I took a moment to just breathe, focusing on the feedback from my swarm.

There was no time to be awed by this place. I had to push forward. Take stock later, focus on the task at hand, now. 

I’d held some of my swarm back so I could place some bugs on my allies, and I had a few crawl under my clothes and into my hair, just in case. I took care to make sure they weren’t visible unless you looked really closely, and it was in that train of thought—people’s attention on me—that another thought occurred.

“Does anyone have a spare mask?” I asked.

“Here,” Antares said. Instead of reaching into a pocket like I expected, she plucked the black-and-gold mask off her face and held it out for me. 

I stared. The blonde hair had been somewhat familiar, but the blue eyes and the model-like face were unmistakable. 

_Knew I recognised that voice._

“Glory Girl,” I said without thinking.

She smiled grimly. “Antares, now, but yeah. A lot of stuff happened in the last few years. New name, new me.”

“Yeah.” Except where Imp and Rachel each had a good four years on them, she hardly looked any different. I wanted to ask, but she was already flying back over to her team. I stared at her back, wondering. Panacea keeping her eternally young, maybe?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Not important.

The mask was far from a perfect fit to my face, but it stayed on. That would have to do. 

The dogs waiting in the corridor were just a bit taller than waist-height and only a tad monstrous, but started growing rapidly as we approached. Muscles split apart and expanded, spikes jutting out from the gaps as they quickly became hulking beasts, tall enough that the top of my head was level with the smallest one’s shoulder, and I could’ve walked beneath their undercarriage if I crouched just a little. 

Convenient, that Rachel just so happened to have three of them with her. Contessa again?

“What are their names?” I asked.

Rachel patted the side of the dog closest to her. I could clearly see it was thinner than the others, even in its bulky, monstrous form.“Yips,” she said. The dog shifted, its muscular red tail giving a short wag. 

Next, she pointed at the dog Imp was slowly leading me towards, crouched down in waiting for us. The one that had been in the cloning room. “Spike.” 

Then the third dog. It was sitting on its haunches, patiently waiting for a command from its master. It was always a surreal image for such a monstrous creature to be acting so tame, but at the same time it brought a sense of familiarity. “Tike,” Rachel said.

Neither of the latter two had reacted to their names beyond a slight shift in alertness. Better trained.

“Spike and Tike.” I managed to smile. “From Tom and Jerry.”

“I dunno. Cassie suggested the names.”

“Cassie?”

“Someone who works for me.”

I had to take a moment to parse that. Rachel had people. More to the point, people she listened to enough to name some of her dogs for her.

A small huff of laughter escaped me. I couldn’t help it. The thought made me happy in a way that starkly contrasted with the bleak emotions I’d been feeling since I woke up here.

“You’ve changed,” I said.

Rachel shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Aww, don’t make her blush, Skitter,” Imp crooned. “She’s got a job to do, you knoooow?”

I ignored her. “I’m happy for you, Rachel.”

“Get on the dog already,” she said, turning away.

“Sure.” I was still smiling.

“Is this okay, Antares?” Tress asked.

“Has to be,” Antares replied.

I glanced back at them, and it was impossible to miss how Breakthrough gave me a wide berth, even as Imp and Rachel were right at my side, unaffected by whatever they thought I could potentially do.

From what I’d been told of my own actions, I couldn’t blame them, but it stung all the same.

Some part of me compared it to the shittier times at school, boxed in by malice on all sides. My stomach dropped as I realised how easily and clearly those images came to mind. It felt like some fucking cosmic joke that I couldn’t remember half my life, but I could call up a memory of Emma’s derisive sneer with no trouble.

Conflict, Swansong had said. The worst moments of our lives. I thought back to Bonesaw’s talk about passengers, a scene that felt like a lifetime ago. 

An alien. One that reached into my mind and formed a connection, a living thing with its own agenda.

The thought made me shiver.

_Fuck everything about this._

My smile dropped and I pressed my lips together in a thin line as we reached the dog. Spike, Rachel had said.

“Sure you can hold on?” Imp asked. “I can ride with you if you think you need support.”

“My upper body strength is fine,” I said. “We’ll just have to do what we did earlier.”

“Earlier?” Imp chuckled under her breath. “Try to remember your ‘earlier’ was four years ago for us, Skitter.”

I grimaced. Right. “My legs got fucked up by Burnscar, so we had to tie me to one of the dogs so I’d stay on.”

“I don’t remember that, but I’ll take your word for it. But, uh, not sure we have the equipment for that right now.”

I stared at the dog, unsure what to say. My mind was still sluggish, just a bit less than full capacity. If I was at the top of my game, I was sure I would’ve been able to think up a solution, so I wasn’t such a fucking burden.

I felt Breakthrough gather together through my bugs, speaking in low voices. Antares filling her team in, hopefully.

It felt like I was trying to shift gears, but it just wasn’t catching. The mindset I’d forced myself into in the past weeks held no use anymore, but it was still there: gain Coil’s respect so I could rescue Dinah, protect my people and my territory. More recently, defeat the Nine, stop Jack leaving the city, _save Brian_. Everything had revolved around doing what was necessary for those goals, and my brain was still in that loop of crushing guilt.

All my foundations had been snatched out from underneath me, and I was having trouble adapting to the new situation. Dinah had been saved, the world had ended, and I couldn’t muster up the same drive when my goals were now forever out of reach.

It felt like I’d failed without ever getting a chance to do anything.

“Hey.” Imp bumped her hip against mine, bringing me out of my thoughts. “After all this is over, I’ll show you a fuckin’ awesome gelato place near the place we’re staying. No crisis, no stress. Just relaxation.”

I didn’t know how I was supposed to respond to that.

“Sure,” I said, uncomfortable.

Imp still stared at me. “You don’t have to bottle it up, you know?”

My nails bit into my palms hard enough to draw blood where they rested against the dog’s hulking side. Painful, but it stopped the shaking.

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind. Just remember: gelato and relaxation.” She shook her head. There was a beat of silence before she huffed out a quiet laugh. “I thought for so long about the shit I never got to say to you, and now I’m here it’s all just… _poof_. Gone. Remind me to rant at you, later?”

I tried to muster up a smile. The sentiment was a nice one, if a little out of place. “We have time.”

“Yeah,” Imp said, sounding more like herself. “Yeah. We do.” She gave me another little nudge. “Come on, I’ll walk by your dog’s side for now.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it.” She flexed one of her arms. “I’ve been working out, ya know?”

I gave her a sceptical look, hoping it would be conveyed even through my mask.

“You’re an idiot,” Rachel said. 

I nodded in agreement.

Imp staggered backwards with a hand over her heart, then spun on the spot. “Heeeey, Breakthrough, can I transfer? My team’s bullying me.”

Breakthrough had been conferring between themselves in hushed voices, but broke apart and approached.

“We don’t accept mediocre villains, unfortunately,” Swansong said.

“In the interest of hero-villain cooperation, I’m going to be the bigger woman and neglect to give the obvious response to that quip,” Imp said.

“You could never be the bigger woman.”

Imp looked her up and down. “Bigger in the places that _matter_.”

Antares groaned. “Please don’t. Let’s focus on the task at hand.” She gestured at the corridor ahead of us, conveniently stepping between Swansong and Imp. “Are we ready to move?”

“Yeah,” Rachel said.

Imp and Rachel helped me climb onto Spike’s back. It took a moment to get a position where I was comfortable, grasping at some of the protruding spikes for handholds, maneuvering my legs into a position where I wasn’t going to shift too much. 

In comparison, Rachel hopped up onto Yips with ease, the monstrous dog leaning down to let her mount and then rising back to its full height in one smooth, practiced motion.

As promised, Imp walked alongside as the giant dogs started to lope forward, their footfalls loud in the long, empty white corridor. It didn’t take long before she was having to jog to keep up.

Breakthrough started moving at the same time, Antares taking to the air with Tress clinging to her back. Precipice, Swansong, and Capricorn were behind us. There were limps and uneven gaits across the board.

My bugs were giving me a good idea of our surroundings in every direction, and the gnats I had on Antares felt the vibration in her chest as she started to speak, floating so she was above us.

“Contessa gave us several major objectives.” She nodded in my direction. “I’m pretty sure we’ve completed the first. Now, we focus on the others.”

“Valkyrie and her flock, Legend’s team, Chevalier’s team, and Miss Militia’s team,” Tress said over her shoulder.

“Imp already mentioned," I said.

“We don’t have a lot in terms of specifics of how we’re supposed to do this, just the names and abilities of enemies and allies,” Antares said. “Miss Militia’s should already be dealt with by now. We need to give some injectors to one of Valkyrie’s capes without waking her up, rescue Chevalier from Mama Mathers, and assist Legend against Saint so he and his team can actually enter the facility. Those are our victory conditions.”

“Do we have any idea where Mama went after Valefor went down?” Precipice asked.

Capricorn shook his head. “Could be anywhere, and she’s the one we have to worry about most.” I saw his gaze flick to me through his helmet. “I hate to talk like this, but I’m worried about what Skitter’s role in all this is supposed to be.”

“She may not have one,” Antares said, and I bristled. “It may be that we were simply there to cut off one of Teacher’s plays. Sveta touching the tank activated it, presumably before Teacher wanted it to. Maybe just by having her lucid and aware right now, we’re stopping one of his avenues of attack.”

“She has a point,” Imp said to me, a little breathless already despite her earlier assurances.

“We don’t have complete knowledge of all of Teacher’s assets,” Antares continued. “But we’ve got a pretty good idea of what he can throw at us thanks to Contessa.”

“Speedrunners are out of the game,” Imp said.

Antares nodded. “And we took out a squad of Students on the way here. One of them was a Thrall commander, she called him.”

“So who’s left? The big enemies we need to deal with?” I asked.

Antares spoke. “There are three major enemies in the way of our objectives: Saint, Ingenue, and Mama Mathers. Saint is a tinker of some sort, using two giant mechs along with another of his teammates. Ingenue can mess with powers, swapping your control for strength and that kind of thing. She was in the birdcage. Nasty piece of work.” She paused, a line of tension thrumming through her body. “Worst is Mama Mathers. An illusionist. Fucks with any senses you use to observe her. If you see her, hear her, smell her, touch her, or even fucking taste her, she can mess with that sense. Even if it’s a power granted sense, she’ll mess with it.”

I felt like all eyes were on me, even though I could clearly see everyone’s attention was on the endless white corridor ahead. 

The idea of giving out details on my power was almost painful, but I knew I had to do it. I didn’t know these people. Had no compelling reason to trust them. But the fact was we were going to be fighting on the same side for the foreseeable future, and to do that effectively we had to have knowledge of each others’ abilities. It had to be a two-way street.

We were moving at a more manageable pace now, so my voice came out more level. “I can’t see through my bugs, and hearing with them is iffy.”

There was a pause at that before Imp slapped a palm to her forehead. “Shit, yeah. I totally forgot that wasn’t always a thing you could do.”

“Wasn’t always?” I asked, shocked. “I learned how to control it?”

“Yeah. Don’t ask how, cause I ain’t got a clue.”

That was— fuck, I would’ve given anything to have that ability right now. The things I could do…

I shook my head. Pointless thoughts.

“If you can’t see or hear through your bugs, you might be our counter to her,” Antares said.

“I’m not sure. I can feel my swarm in a way that’s hard to describe. If she can affect power-related senses…” I trailed off. 

“How far away can you control your bugs?” Capricorn asked.

“Right now? About six blocks, maybe?”

Which was _far_ further than I was used to.

“You might be even more vulnerable to her than others, then,” Precipice said. “She could affect you from a distance. Like Lookout.”

I found it hard to believe. “You really think she could mess with my bug sense?”

“It’s a risk,” Imp said. “Probably not one we should take. I’ve seen what she can do to people. It’s not pretty.”

I nodded, skepticism dashed against the rocks of Imp’s uncharacteristically grim tone. 

Antares cursed under her breath. “If anything starts feeling wrong with your bugs, you let us know and pull them away immediately. Remember you have to keep them hidden as much as possible. And keep track of every person you land them on. Even if she counters you, we might be able to get an idea of where Mama Mathers is that way.” She cursed again. “I was worried about why Contessa took the time to brief me on our enemies when she gave everyone else so little in her instructions. Guess this is the answer.”

“Makes sense,” I said, grim.

“As for how we’re going to tackle these guys, I’m torn,” Antares said. “Ingenue is extremely problematic, in a way that’s hard to deal with. Having your grasp on your power change on you at the wrong moment could be fatal, like if she took away my control of my flight while I’m in the air. If she can do it just by looking at you, I don’t know how to counter that.”

“Breakthrough’s sticking together?” Capricorn asked.

“Contessa did say we should.”

“And I fucking hate that I agree with her on something,” Tress said.

Antares shifted, knocking her head against Tress’. Tress returned the motion.

“Any ideas?” Imp asked. It took me a second to realise she was talking to me. She and Rachel had been quiet for a while now.

“Some,” I said. “I might not be able to counter Mama Mathers like you hoped, but I’m thinking I might be able to counter _Ingenue_ pretty handily.”

Looking at Imp, I felt Antares shake her head through the tiny bugs I had resting on her hair. “You can’t show off your power, Skitter.”

“I don’t need to show off my bugs to take her out,” I said. After the clash at the bank I could forgive her for thinking my power wasn’t the most subtle, but I had more tricks up my sleeve than that. “I’m talking about manipulating the battlefield rather than straight up swarming her. Using my bugs to drop something on her head, maybe.”

She shook her head. “Not worth the risk. Stay back. Coordinate. Direct us. Pass along messages.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to do that?”

“ _Please_ , Skitter.”

I stared her down.

“The most important thing for you,” Antares said, and she was putting serious emphasis on her words now, staring down on me from above, expression severe in a way that just didn’t fit what I knew of the Glory Girl who’d smashed first and asked questions later, “is that you _have to_ stay inconspicuous, Skitter. Don’t just take this from me, but from Tattletale—she’s communicating with me right now through Lookout. Quite apart from what Mama Mathers could do to your power, you can’t do anything that could compromise you before we can get you to someone who can check for any programming or compulsions. Sit this one out, and let us do the fighting.”

I met her eyes, glaring through the mask.

There was a degree to which I could accept distrust, and this was going past it. It seemed like every time I reached out to the other side, they shot me down. Oh, they always had their reasons for it, they made it sound very logical.

But really, they just weren’t prepared to fucking trust me, to work together against a greater enemy. They’d made that abundantly clear. Four years later, same story.

Well, fuck that. I wasn’t going to sit back and watch them mess it all up, like they always did.

If I needed to take matters into my own hands, I would.

“Enough with the lectures,” Imp said. She gestured to the dog beneath me. “You think you’ve got this, Skitter?”

“At this pace? I’m good.”

“Thank fuck for that,” she huffed as she swung herself up onto Tike. She faltered a little as the monstrous dog shifted unexpectedly, but quickly got her balance. “Let’s go mess these guys up already,” she finished as if nothing had happened.

I chose not to comment on it. Instead, I gave her a nod. “Let’s do this.”

“Fuck yes. The baddest bitches are back in business, baby!”

Rachel made a hollering noise, and the dogs charged, taking us deeper into Teacher’s base.

~~~


	5. 1.5

We moved through Teacher’s facility as a group, with Rachel ahead of me and Imp behind, stomping through the white corridors. 

It felt good because it was familiar when so little about this situation was. Riding atop a monstrous animal, grasping for handholds on dark spikes, unable to find a comfortable position as it bucked and swayed beneath me in an uneven rhythm; this was shit I was used to. It felt like I’d done it a thousand times.

That weird sense of dysphoria was still there, though, even with this. Mere hours ago we’d had to tie me to the dogs, riding side-saddle because my legs were so badly burned from Burnscar’s attack on my territory.

Now, my skin was fresh. Raw, somewhat weak and irritating, but uninjured. It was a constant reminder, a distraction when I needed to be at the top of my game.

My bugs were scouting ahead, pushed out to the limits of my range. We moved faster than my bugs could ever hope to, but with the movement through the giant building more fell into my range, constantly refreshing my swarm’s numbers and letting me get a decent picture of what was to come. 

Swansong was taking the lead, her power best suited to engaging anyone who could slip through my bugs—Mannequin had given me a hard lesson on that front, and it wasn’t a mistake I was willing to make again. Antares was above us, carrying Precipice, while Tress had taken to propelling herself through the corridors by flinging her tendrils at door frames and light fixtures. Capricorn ran between my dog and Imp’s, and I had to commend his bravery; one slip-up and Tike would trample him. He showed no fear, and he was putting in an impressive showing by keeping up, even if the dogs were moving far from the speed they were capable of.

We’d barely been riding for a few minutes, following the cavernous pale hallway, before signs of fighting came into my range. 

“Up ahead, three floors below us at our 2’o’clock,” I called out, throat raw.

“Can you try and figure out who’s fighting?” Antares asked, flying overhead, sticking close to the ceiling. Precipice cringed against her back, evidently too close to the roof for comfort.

“I’ll do my best,” I said, having to almost shout to be heard over the rumbling cacophony of the dogs’ footfalls and the ear-splitting shriek of Swansong’s power as she propelled herself ahead of us.

The biggest impediment was that the fight was going down in an endless corridor much like the one we were in, if significantly wider. Getting my bugs in there inconspicuously was a laborious task we couldn’t afford to be wasting time on, but it was something that had to be done. The element of surprise was crucial for me, here. My greatest weapon. On that much, Antares and I could agree, if for different reasons.

It was a pain in the ass and slowed things down significantly, but I made the effort to manoeuvre my bugs in a way that seemed natural, landing them on the participants and mapping out the battlefield.

A group of fifteen or so capes was gathered at an intersection, surrounding one wounded or unconscious individual in the middle of them. In each of the four directions around them, enemy capes and thralls littered the corridors. There were dozens, and they acted with reckless abandon, zero consideration paid to their own wellbeing, overseen by a smaller group up on a nearby ledge.

Thinking about the briefing Antares had given earlier, the conclusion was obvious.

“Think I’ve found Valkyrie,” I said. I did my best to describe the layout of the crossroads in the miles-long corridors, as well as the position of the people fighting.

“Sounds like that might be Valkyrie’s group, yeah,” Antares said. She blinked a few times, and there was a flash of dim light in her left eye. “What about our other targets? Do you see Chevalier and Legend in your range?”

I shook my head.

“Then let’s get closer,” Antares said.

As if by some unspoken command, we doubled our pace, hurtling towards the fighting under my direction. My mount had been turbulent, before. Now, it was all I could do to cling to Spike’s back. I clung on with all my strength, throbbing agony in my legs, my mind elsewhere, spreading through my swarm.

The ‘vibe’ of the base had been slowly changing along our way, but as we got closer, it got more stark. Where we’d started had felt more like accommodation and hospitality. Now, there were more of these giant rooms, more rooms filled with tech, more utilities. Far below us, there was a ruined corridor wide enough to fit a four-lane street, lined with open rooms cut away into the walls on either side, each cubby larger than the room I’d woken in. 

My range was greater than it had ever been, and it felt like Teacher’s base was helping every step of the way. This place gave me the fucking creeps. Buildings just weren’t supposed to be this big. We’d easily gone half a mile from the room where I woke up, and there was no end to it in sight. Even though it was mind-blowingly huge, it felt claustrophobic. The knowledge that I could run at full speed in any direction for an hour with no guarantee I’d find my way outside was fucking with me in a way that sent the edges of my range fuzzy, pushing outward.

Thoughts I’d been having for a long time coalesced, finally taking form: the times when my range had expanded most had been when I’d felt most trapped, calling back to my trigger. 

Now that I knew for sure there was a force behind the curtain, regulating my power, feeding off of that headspace, could I try to exploit it? 

_ Worth a try. _

I thought back to that day. Four cold walls, surrounding me on all sides. The crushing knowledge that there were people walking by outside, and no one was going to help. I even had the bugs under my clothes hop onto my skin, crawling over me, trying to emulate that feeling.

There was a crackling feeling in my mind, growing louder. Pinpricks of light danced in my vision, growing ever more numerous. Phantom images that prowled on walls, clung to skin, and skittered across broken ground. A thousand deep, garbled sounds drilled into the centre of my skull.

A shard of ice stabbed into my brain, then, like an electric shock, the pain tore through my body, sending lances of agony into my heart. I’d felt pain before, brought on by a mad bomber with the explicit intention of inflicting agony on her victims. I’d had my back broken by a vicious monster that had killed dozens of other capes that very same day. I’d been burned, stabbed, and cut. Pain was nothing new to me.

Nothing I’d ever experienced came close to this.

Lightning crashed in my mind, assaulted by new sensations, and I hastily threw the walls back up. My power flickered, senses winking in and out. 

Once the pain faded, I looked up.

I froze, staring wide-eyed.

An endless expanse of carmine stalagmites, sticking up from the ground at chaotic angles, a forest of crystal viewed from upon a hill. Lighting rolled through an oily black sky. Gargantuan silhouettes lurched and jerked in the distance, stalking the ruined red landscape.

Before me stood a hunched figure, her form twisting and mingling with her surroundings. Everything was indistinct, like the world was a stained-glass window.

But I could see her eyes. Wide, yellow, and feverish. Blood-shot. They were fixed on me with an unerring intensity, and their gaze peeled away my skin, flayed the muscle beneath, and tore away my bones.

I gasped at the pain, my entire body going tense. 

The figure reached out with a bloody stump of an arm.

Spike bucked beneath me, almost throwing me off, and I had to scramble to keep a hold on the monstrous dog. 

I blinked, regaining focus, the vision fading away. We were still in Teacher’s base, tearing through the corridors. I was still clinging to Spike’s back, still hunched over from the pain.

_ W-what the fuck was that? _

Horror settled over me like a shroud. That hadn’t felt like a hallucination.

A memory. Something I’d seen before.

I swallowed bile.

A rivulet of blood trickled from my nose, past my lips, dropping onto Spike’s back. I wiped it away before anyone could see. It tasted acidic. My head was pounding. Each pulse sent a chain reaction through my body, electricity frying every nerve.

I heard someone shouting, and each syllable was like a crashing cymbal inside my skull.

“Taylor?! Taylor! Talk to us!”

The voice was familiar. Imp.

“I’m fine,” I croaked.

“Like fuck you are! Rachel, stop the dog!”

“No,” I called out. “Don’t stop. I’m okay.”

“Taylor—”

“Don’t stop,” I said, looking up to meet Rachel’s eyes.

She stared back for a long moment before nodding.

I twisted around, intending to talk to Imp, and found a look in her eyes I couldn’t name. “What?”

“You’re worrying me, Taylor,” she said. “What was that, just now?”

“I’m fine.” I tried to keep my voice level. The pain in my legs was fierce, and it felt like whatever had just happened had thrown every sensation I felt into sharper relief. But at this point I was actually keeping my balance better than when we first set out, strength still coming back, inch by agonising inch.

Whenever I blinked, that blurred figure appeared in my vision like sunspots. I tried to think of other things, distract myself, but it had my mind in a white-knuckled grip.

“You sure? Your bugs disagree with ya there, sport.”

I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Me and you need a talk after all this.”

Before I could reply, something caught my attention. Or  _ someone _ . 

I was still mapping things out with my bugs, almost working on autopilot. I’d never been under the delusion that my bugs’ activity would go unnoticed, considering just what kind of bullshit capes could pull off, and I was being extra careful with getting too close to people, with Mama Mathers at at the forefront of my worries, but when someone I’d tagged with gnats snatched them up into their palm and held them in front of their face, I couldn’t help feeling a little pissed. I’d  _ really _ been trying to be inconspicuous.

They started speaking into their hands. I couldn’t make out the words, but the voice was deep enough I tentatively marked him as a guy.

“Someone’s just noticed me,” I said, grim. 

Once again, Antares was back by my side in an instant. Even Tress started making an effort to stay alongside me as she propelled herself along the corridor. 

“Any idea who?” Antares asked.

“Not a clue.”

I started moving more bugs into the area. My swarm was so sparse I couldn’t afford to spare anything more than a few hundred flies. Still, the man made no move to fight or run as they landed on him, and I soon amended my estimation—the boy couldn’t have been older than thirteen.

He’d evidently figured out I couldn’t understand his words, and was now gesturing back behind him with an open-palmed slashing motion.

“It’s a boy,” I said. “He’s trying to give me a message, I think.”

Antares looked at Tress. “One of the Harbinger clones?”

More fucking clones? How many of us were there?

“Is he wearing glasses?” Tress asked.

I moved some flies over his face. He gave no reaction. “Yes.”

“Probably one of the Harbingers, then,” Tress said. “Or maybe you’d know him as the Number Man?”

The name rang a bell. “The banker for villains?”

“And a former member of Cauldron’s inner circle, yeah. He has some kind of Thinker power to do with math, noticing patterns, and it makes him a formidable fighter.”

“Try and figure out what he wants? Contessa would’ve given him orders, too,” Antares said.

The boy continued the slashing motion. I diverted a bunch of bugs over to the nearest wall, while keeping enough on him to track his movements.

‘Message?’ they spelt out.

The boy nodded. He stepped up to the wall and reached out, stopping just before his pointer finger made contact with my bugs. 

Seeing what he was trying to do, I packed the bugs together into a uniform square as best I could.

With a touch so soft it barely stirred the wings on my flies, he started writing out a message, and it felt like he was tracing letters on my skin. As I parsed the words, a mixture of trepidation and anticipation settled over me.

I started scouting with my bugs, recommitted to searching, moving them faster than I had been before. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for.

Damn him, it really was perfect.

Too perfect. I felt trepidation. How did he even know to look for a place I could hide in? Contessa? It seemed as if everyone was determined to keep me out of the action. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t see the merits in their reasoning, but it still rankled. I felt like a puppet dancing on strings, and I didn’t like it one bit.

Still, I had to play along, for now.

“You still want me on the back lines?” I asked.

Antares nodded. Precipice still looked a little out of sorts, jostled every time Antares moved.

“Seems this guy wanted to show me a place I could run mission control.”

There was steel in Antares’ eyes.

“Show us,” she said.

~~~

My bugs had already given me a good idea of the layout of the room, but the aesthetic of the place came as a surprise. I’d become so used to white hallways, white rooms, white ceilings, and just white  _ everything, _ that a room full of dark electronic equipment was almost refreshing. 

Screens lined the three walls opposite and to either side of the door, each perfectly fitting so not an inch of the wall was left uncovered. The ceiling was a strange pattern of cables stapled down, out of the way of anyone working in the room. Directly across from the door was the main terminal, a desk as wide as the room with a single wireless keyboard and mouse, though there was no obvious computer in the vicinity. A chair had been tipped to the floor, as if someone had left in a hurry.

Imp walked up to the desk, tapping at the keyboard at random.

“Lookout says they’re dead,” Antares said. “Teacher’s people have been sabotaging systems rather than letting Lookout—and Contessa, by extension—get to them.” She frowned. “Records apparently say there are microphones and speakers that are meant to be dead, but they’re air gapped. Be careful; the walls might have ears.”

Imp slumped, sighing.

The control room was situated in the middle of a long corridor, with only server rooms on either side and across from it, stretching on for almost a block. The floor directly below was one of the huge corridors with the giant open cells on either side, and the floor above was almost identical to the one we were on now in layout. 

Here, there was no easy way for anyone to sneak up on me. It wasn’t a sure thing, as Mannequin had proven just days ago—from my perspective, at least. But I fancied my chances of detecting any intruders when their only options to reach me were long corridors with almost zero cover. 

Most importantly: the entirety of the battle surrounding Valkyrie was well within my range.

“Okay,” Antares said, her attention on me. “Know where we need to go?”

I nodded. 

“You’re going to keep yourself and your power hidden, as much as possible?”

I stared at her. The petty side of me wanted to cross my fingers behind my back, but I just gave another nod.

“Remember to be careful of Mama Mathers? If your power starts feeling strange in  _ any _ way, pull back, okay?”

“Antares,” Swansong cut in. Her tone was softer than I’d gotten used to from her. Jarring.

Antares took a deep breath, but said no more. 

There was a moment of grim silence, no one daring to speak. Capricorn laid a hand on Precipice’s shoulder. Tress grabbed Antares’ hand and gave it a little shake. Swansong was off on her own, and Antares shifted to bump their shoulders together. They shared a look.

They all knew what they needed to do and what was at stake here. Contessa’s plan had even laid out the aftermath, promising them that none of their group was going to die today.

That didn’t make things easy. Adrenaline and sheer force of will could carry you a hell of a long way, but there was a limit. I’d noticed that Breakthrough had looked battered and harried. How long had they been fighting without taking a real break? Slowly making their way into a huge building full of hostile enemies, knowing the first wave of their attack had lost contact, and very possibly been slaughtered—they knew that wasn’t the case now, but it had to have been taxing.

I knew the feeling. How much sleep had I gotten in the last few days? It was even something Brian had commented on, what felt to me like hours ago. Fighting the Nine, taking control of my territory, beating back the Merchants. It had felt unending, but I couldn’t afford to slow down. I had to match the world’s bullshit blow for blow if I wanted to save Dinah. But it all added up, put weight on your shoulders.

I ignored the fact that all the fatigue I’d been feeling the last few days had been wiped away, replaced by this bone-deep, raw weakness. Like a fucking newborn kitten.

They needed this moment of quiet to build themselves up to go out there again. To regain that courage that was so desperately needed when they were about to put their bodies on the line once more. 

Even if I understood it, the wasted time was frustrating. Instinct made me want to lash out. Caustic words sat at the end of my tongue, but I bit them back with an effort that sent a shudder through my chest, a hitch of breath. My bugs stirred, and I had to reassert control.

The blurred figure was still right in the centre of my vision, a hazy impression burned onto my retinas, and it was  _ really  _ starting to get on my nerves.

I strode into the control room, steps heavier than they needed to be, hefted the fallen chair upright and collapsed into it. My legs burned hotter than when Burnscar’s flames had roared over me, but I felt stronger than I had since waking up. Far more assured. Less than one-hundred percent, but much closer to a place where I felt like I could act.

Seconds that felt agonisingly like hours passed before Antares took a breath and spoke. “Let’s go.”

Breakthrough set off at a pace that was only just a little less than a sprint. I drew up directions ahead of them, and it wasn’t long before their footfalls faded into the distance.

I breathed a sigh of relief, lifting my hands to massage my temples.

Rachel lingered in the doorway, indecision in her eyes as she stared me down. 

“Rachel? You need to go.”

Ignoring me, she stepped into the room. 

I tensed, images of that first day we met in the loft flickering into my mind, preparing myself to dive away from an attack.

I barely had time to get to my feet before her arms were wrapped around me. I wheezed, tried to pull away, but she held on. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said.

I froze. My heart thumped once, hard, before a light feeling fluttered in my chest. 

“Got that?” she pressed, giving me a little shake.

Words caught in my throat.

“It’s good to have you back,” Rachel said. “Don’t fuck it up.”

The sentiment was delivered in such a familiar  _ Rachel  _ way, I couldn’t help but laugh. Less than an hour ago, I couldn’t have imagined her talking like this. Giving me a hug, of all things.

In a way, it emphasised just how far she’d come. How different she was.

I liked this new Rachel much better, even if I wished I could’ve got to see her grow to where she was now.

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

“Well, I’m feeling kinda left out now.” A voice came from my right. I flinched, trying to turn, only to get a face full of of Imp.

“Group hug!” she cried.

Rachel broke away almost immediately and strode from the room without a backwards glance. Seconds later, her dogs were rumbling away down the corridor, spurred on by whistles and barked orders. I formed arrows on the walls and ceilings, directing her to follow after Antares and Swansong, where she could help most.

“Rude,” Imp called after her. “I was considerate enough to use my power so you could do that without feeling all awkward, and this is how you repay me?! I get no appreciation around here.”

I fell back into the computer chair and swivelled around to face the blank monitors. For now, alone in the control room, the best I could do was  _ observe. _

My biggest asset was the element of surprise, and I needed to invest that for the highest possible profit. I desperately wanted to harry Teacher’s people, to attack his guys and distract them, hold their attention so Breakthrough could swoop in and clean up the aftermath.

Instead, I held back. Watching, waiting. 

There was a gnawing thought at the back of my mind that I could lose my opportunity if I delayed too long. My swarm was sparse to say the least, even without the fact my bugs themselves were utter shit. At any moment, the whole battle could move further away and leave me powerless to act.

Patience was the name of the game here, and I was running out of it before my allies had even engaged the enemy.

The fight between Valkyrie’s defenders and Teacher’s army was ramping up in intensity with every moment. As if by some unseen signal, the thralls had upped their aggression, almost throwing themselves at Valkyrie’s group with no care for self-preservation.

Had they seen reinforcements coming? No way to be sure, but I drew out messages just in case. Antares must have already been going at full speed, because her flight didn’t change.

Rachel, on the other hand, shouted something I couldn’t make out, and her dogs almost seemed to double their speed, careening down the corridors so fast they were scrabbling for traction.

There were a bunch of other, smaller fights going on. People moving around, charging through the hallways, raiding rooms. Thralls maneuvered to new positions, heroes and villains fought running battles.

I turned the bulk of my attention and my swarm to Valkyrie’s group. My bugs stole over the vast corridors, moving through cracks in the ground and walls, keeping to the shadows as they sought to identify enemies. Playing out the role expected of me.

There were dozens of Teacher’s Students, and they were closing in on Valkyrie’s group. Boxing them in. I relayed their numbers and positions to our reinforcements, and Breakthrough soon reached the outer edges of the fighting. 

Antares shoulder-checked a thrall into a wall hard enough to leave cracks in the white stone, then darted back, avoiding an attack I couldn’t see. 

Beneath and practically in tandem with Antares, Tress lashed out with her tendrils, low to the ground, snagging two thralls by their ankles and dragging them towards her at a speed that almost looked comical, but the bloody trails left in their wake were anything but. They were still alive, but the road rash had them writhing and screaming in agony.

The noise alerted the other thralls, and they turned part of their attention to Breakthrough. They fired lasers, but a shrieking blast from Swansong’s power cancelled them out, and Capricorn spawned a wall that hit the ground with a powerful thud. It was brittle, but it had done enough to stave off the laser fire for a few seconds, allowing Antares and Tress to regain their bearings. 

Only Precipice had yet to act, but he had a blade of curved light in each hand, held in a throwing grip, ready for anyone who got around Capricorn’s cover. 

I couldn’t lie, their teamwork was impressive. None of them had uttered a word as they’d covered each other, moving in a practiced rhythm that could only be born from fighting side-by-side with everything on the line. That kind of trust couldn’t be built any other way.

I knew that all too well.

The entire battlefield was reacting to the new element. Thralls shifted position at the same time as Valkyrie’s flock concentrated their efforts on moving in Breakthrough’s direction.

Most notable were the ones on the ledge overlooking the battlefield before a large door. The majority of them were unmoving, unflinching even as I tentatively moved bugs onto the bare skin around their necks. 

There were six people alone who weren’t catatonic, five men and one woman. All costumed save for the woman.

One man was dressed up like one of those guys in old-school cinemas. What was the name for them? Ushers? I settled on that as a name for him, for the time being. To Usher’s right was a guy dressed like a fucking pirate, of all things, and there was a hazy image looming over his body, beast-like. The third wore a rippling bodysuit and held a trident at the ready in one hand. The one standing furthest from the woman wore a dark loincloth that fell just past his knees, a helmet styled like a goat’s skull covering his head.

Last, but certainly not least, was a monster of a man, standing a head taller than the rest, half his body covered in what seemed to be eyes, the rest marred with etched, twisting patterns, like knots in wood. He stood at the furthest end of the ledge, tension in his body as the woman spoke to him.

That left the woman herself. She could’ve been mistaken for a random civilian, what with the short, flared dress that only just covered her modesty.

But I wasn’t that naive. There was only one woman this could be.

Ingenue.

And she was between Breakthrough and Valkyrie.

I was in the process of drawing out warnings to my allies when the man Ingenue had been talking to started  _ shifting _ , pieces of his skin sliding aside to reveal gaping holes all over his body. 

Bug-like creatures with chitinous armour started filing out of the now-open holes, crawling down his body and to the floor. It started with a dozen, then more, then  _ more _ , the number multiplying exponentially until there were hundreds piling around his feet.

I grimaced. This was a strong contender for the most disgusting power I’d ever seen. I didn’t know what exactly these creatures were capable of, but I was pretty fucking confident I couldn’t let any of them get anywhere close to my allies. 

That had to be my priority for now, and I directed my bugs to landing on them, keeping track of their location.

They spread out, then started moving in a line like a colony of ants. 

Right for Goatman.

He noticed them too late, as the first of the column bit into his achilles, severing the tendon in one savage bite.

One hand came to my mouth. The other gripped the edge of the desk, holding me upright. I felt light-headed. My stomach turned.

Goatman crashed to the ground, and it only got worse from there.

The bugs swarmed, crawling all over him. They bit  _ deep _ , carving out chunks of flesh as large as a fingernail, and there were  _ hundreds _ . 

Goatman writhed, his mouth falling open. The air vibrated from the force of his screams, and it was a pronounced, endless motion. He ran out of breath, his chest expanding as he drew in air, then the screaming continued.

I could only stare in horror as the creatures started filing back towards their monstrous father’s body, carrying fleshy chunks of Goatman. They climbed back upon him, returning to the holes from which they came with their treasure in tow, then went out for more.

The woman sashayed towards Goatman with her hands behind her back, stepping over the line of bugs that filed away from his body. She was acting like a dainty lady with a mutilated ally mere feet away from her.

“Jesus fucking christ,” I muttered, sickened.

Sickened, but newly resolute.

In a way, I could take this as a blessing.

If I’d held any reservations about taking this fucking psycho down, they were all gone now. There would be no hesitation when the time came.

The phantom image still flashed in my vision every time I blinked, the silhouettes of alien figures jerking and lunging in the distance, with the yellow-eyed wraith in the centre of it all, reaching for me. 

It felt like she’d gotten closer.

~~~


End file.
